


YOI One-Shot Collection

by kanekki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ableism, Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Angst, Blood and Injury, Concussions, Dancing, Deaf Character, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Head Injury, JJ Otabek and Leo in America, M/M, Major Character Injury, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Sickfic, Unrequited Crush, Welcome to the Madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2018-10-17 09:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 14,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10590855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanekki/pseuds/kanekki
Summary: A collection of YOI one-shots ♡Detailed tags and summaries can be found inside.





	1. Welcome to the Madness: Yuri's Exhibition Skate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What the hell is he doing?” Yakov hissed again, looking distressed at his student’s actions, “I told him no wild clothing, no stage makeup. Yurachka, you are in for it when you got off of the ice!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159417103269/prompt-yakovvictuuriyuris-grandfather-reacting) "yakov/victuuri/yuri's grandfather reacting to welcome to the madness. bonus points if christophe says something about yuri being too innocent for this!"

“What the _hell_ is he doing?” Yakov growled from the edge of the rink. Victor and Yuuri were standing next to him, mouths agape in twin shock as they watched Yuri strip, throwing his jacket towards the crowd.

 

“I…think he’s found his eros,” Yuuri said quietly, gaping at how sensually their young friend was skating, “Victor, this isn’t at all how he practiced it the other night!”

 

Victor was following Yuri’s routine with his eyes, noticing a dark figure skating onto the ice to join Yuri. They watched as the figure raised an arm, pretending to shoot Yuri with a finger gun. Yuri dropped into a graceful slide, his shirt rising up to bare his entire chest, pants riding low, mimicking taking a bullet from the invisible gun.

 

 _“What the hell is he doing?”_ Yakov hissed again, looking distressed at his student’s actions, “I told him no wild clothing, no stage makeup. Yurachka, you are in for it when you got off of the ice!”

 

Victor coughed a little, like he was trying to hide a smile. “This is…definitely an impressive routine. Adding Otabek in at the last second was a risky choice. This must’ve been what they were getting up to the other night when they wouldn’t come out to dinner with us.”

 

They watched as Otabek joined Yuri on the ice now, the routine fierce and, well, _maddening_. The audience was losing it, Yuri’s fangirls screeching from every corner of the stadium. It was hard to pair in their minds the graceful, ethereal Yuri who had just won gold in the Grand Prix Finals with the wild, reckless skater they were seeing now.

 

“Johnny Weir would be proud,” Victor affirmed, watching Yuri and Otabek leap and twist across the ice, “But this is going to give Yurio’s grandfather a heart attack.”

 

Christophe padded up next to them, his mouth hanging open as well, watching the wild teenage display of reckless abandon and carelessness for rules. “Wow, is this how he skates when he doesn’t have medals to win?” Christophe asked, “I thought he was too innocent for something like this, especially after his short program.”

 

Yuuri was ignoring the conversation, watching as Otabek lifted Yuri and threw him into a jump. Yakov spluttered and groaned at the danger of the move, but Yuri landed perfectly, continuing the routing. Yuuri watched as Yuri nailed a quadruple flip, something he secretly had been working on with him in practice.

 

“GO YURIO AND OTABEK!” Yuuri screamed suddenly, “DAVAI!”

 

Victor looked at his fiance cheering excitedly for the wild pair and he laughed, joining in with whoops and hollers each time Otabek and Yuri did something on the ice. Yakov’s face drained of color as he watched Otabek drop Yuri into a spin. He sat down on the bench, mumbling Russian curses into his hands.

 

Yuri and Otabek went through one final step sequence before ending with Otabek lifting Yuri above his head into a final hold. After the final chord of the music, Yuri slid down Otabek’s chest, far too sensually for his coach’s liking.

 

“He is only _sixteen_ , what is he thinking?” Yakov groaned, “Oh, the press damage for this is going to be horrible.”

 

Victor grinned brightly as Yuri and Otabek skated off the ice, hand in hand. “Cheer up, Yakov! At least Yuri has some new motivation.”

 

The crowd was losing it as some of the more exciting aspects of the program were replayed on the big screens above the rink. Victor and Yuuri looked proudly in Yuri’s direction, watching as he chatted excitedly with Otabek.

 

“This is going to make next season very interesting,” Victor observed brightly, “Now, who wants to call Yurio’s grandfather and explain?”

 

From the bench, Yakov let out an exasperated sigh.


	2. Stay: Victor reflects on his relationship with Yuuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each comment he had ever made dragged down on his confidence. How could he have dismissed Yuuri so easily? How could he have even thought of returning to Russia? How could he have said those horrible things, those hurtful nicknames? How many times had Yuuri gone to sleep crying because of something that Victor had done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159400477499/i-said-horrible-things-to-you-yuuri-things-i) _"I said horrible things to you Yuuri.. Things I never plan on saying again to you.. But I can't be a better boyfriend.. And hopefully.. A husband."_

Victor Nikiforov was a lot of things and he didn’t think that all of them were good.

 

He tried his best to be kind, to be attentive, to be supportive. But sometimes Yuuri would just hurt and Victor would have no idea how to help. As their first year living together progressed, Victor began to learn just how deep Yuuri’s anxieties ran. It terrified him to know that he was Yuuri’s support system.

 

How could he support Yuuri when he felt like he was falling apart himself?

 

During the night, he would watch Yuuri sleep sometimes, the rise and fall of his chest soothing Victor’s thoughts.

 

_I don’t know why you trust me. I hope that I am good enough for you._

 

His insecurities would rise up inside of him at night, bubbling to the surface. They didn’t stem from his skating, no, Victor knew he was good at that. He had just spent so much of his childhood and teenage years focused on winning medals that he often wondered if he had missed out on some basic life lessons.

 

_Like how to be a good boyfriend. Oh, Yuuri, the things I said to you…_

 

Victor chastised himself daily for how he had initially treated Yuuri.

 

_“A commemorative photo?” “Little piggy…”_

 

Each comment he had ever made dragged down on his confidence. How could he have dismissed Yuuri so easily? How could he have even thought of returning to Russia? How could he have said those horrible things, those hurtful nicknames? How many times had Yuuri gone to sleep crying because of something that Victor had done?

 

It _tortured_ him.

 

Victor turned his attention back to Yuuri’s face, his black hair falling gently into his eyes while he snored lightly. His t-shirt was pushed up slightly and his hands rest against his face like a child’s.

 

He was the most beautiful thing that Victor had ever seen.

 

Emotional welling up inside of him, Victor made a promise to himself never to hurt Yuuri again. Never to cause him a second’s doubt.

 

“I said horrible things to you Yuuri,” Victor whispered, gently caressing Yuuri’s hair, “Things I never plan on saying to you again. But I can be a better boyfriend, and hopefully, one day…a husband.”

 

Yuuri shifted in his sleep, pressing his face against the palm of Victor’s hand. Victor leaned down, wrapping Yuuri up in his arms.

 

“I love you,” Victor whispered, kissing Yuuri’s forehead, “Stay by my side.”

 

_And never leave._


	3. Halloween Hell: Otayuri at a Carnival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They walked through the fair, Yuri looking back and forth for potential threats, when a festival worker dressed as a zombie leapt out in front of them, screaming and snarling.
> 
> “MOTHERFUCKER!” Yuri screamed, leaping behind Otabek again, “JJ, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from: [here](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159399625454/prompt-whatthe-fuck-is-that-for-otabek-and). "WHAT....The fuck is that?"
> 
> Otabek/Yuri will some bonus JJ.

It was all JJ’s fault, really.

 

Yuri and Otabek had arrived in Canada for an exhibition in late October and were quickly intercepted by Yuri’s _favorite_ skater. JJ had cheerfully greeted them, telling them that there was a carnival by the rink that they had to check out after they checked in to their hotel.

 

Excited by the prospect of rides and bad carnival food, Yuri and Otabek had hastily checked into their hotel room, getting in a good few hours rest before their relaxing night of celebratory fun. They pulled on their coats, heading out towards the glittering rides. Yuri was looking forward to riding the roller coaster in the distance, chatting excitedly with Otabek.  

 

What JJ had conveniently forgotten to mention was that it was a _Halloween_ carnival. Yuri knew something was amiss when he saw Otabek’s jaw clench as they approached the ticket counter.

 

“Yura, don’t look to your right,” he said softly as he handed money to the cashier, “Trust me.”

 

Of course, he looked.

 

“ _What the fuck is that?_ ” Yuri screeched, leaping behind Otabek, “Jesus fucking christ!”

 

Yuri clawed behind Otabek, burying his face in his boyfriend’s leather jacket.

 

“Beka, is it gone?” Yuri trembled, “Get it away from me.”

 

Otabek pulled out of his arms, leaning down to kiss Yuri’s forehead. “Yuri, don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the clowns, okay?”

 

Yuri nearly hissed at the word. “I fucking _hate clowns,_ Beka! Shit, I’m going to murder JJ. I bet he planned this.”

 

They walked through the fair, Yuri looking back and forth for potential threats, when a festival worker dressed as a zombie leapt out in front of them, screaming and snarling.

 

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Yuri screamed, leaping behind Otabek again, “JJ, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!”

 

Otabek was snorting with laughter now, scooping up Yuri behind him and hoisting him on his back.

 

“A piggyback ride? Seriously?” Yuri snorted, “I’m nineteen, not nine.”

 

Otabek smiled as he carried Yuri down the path, the bright lights of the carnival games flashing around them. Every few moments, Yuri would let out a small squeak of terror at the sight of a costumed performer, burying his head into Otabek’s shoulder whenever he saw one of their murderous looking clown costumes.

 

“Don’t worry,” Otabek said softly as he found a nice, safe, ferris wheel ride with no clowns or actors in sight, sensing Yuri sigh in relief, “I’ll always protect you, Yura.”


	4. Something Different: Young Victor Cuts His Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He pretended to listen as Yakov gave out to him, brushing his mane of silver hair off of his shoulder. His hair was his pride, his strength. Victor loved his long hair, he loved how it made him feel. The grace and beauty he felt when on the ice. His hair gave him power when he would skate and he loved how it made him feel. On the ice, he always felt beautiful.
> 
> Beautiful and _bored._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159398676454/for-your-writing-prompt-request-maybe-why-victor). "Why Victor decided to cut his hair and how it went?"

Victor was so bored.

 

“Vitya, again!” Yakov barked from the edge of the rink. Victor sighed heavily, resetting himself into his starting position for his new free skate program. He had been running it through for hours, Yakov nitpicking at every section.

 

“Your footwork is lazy and you need to work on controlling the speed on your jumps,” he criticized sharply, “Your head is not in the rink today.”

 

He pretended to listen as Yakov gave out to him, brushing his mane of silver hair off of his shoulder. His hair was his pride, his strength. Victor loved his long hair, he loved how it made him feel. The grace and beauty he felt when on the ice. His hair gave him power when he would skate and he loved how it made him feel. On the ice, he always felt beautiful.

 

Beautiful and _bored_.

 

Every day was the same. Wake up, eat, skate, eat, skate, eat, shower, sleep. Sometimes he’d compete, or meet with fans. But there was nothing unexpected, nothing out of the ordinary. Victor was so above and beyond the other skaters his age that he felt he had no one to talk to, nothing to break him out of the monotony of his day.

 

“Vitya! Are you listening?” Yakov asked gruffly.

 

“Not really!” Victor exclaimed cheerfully, “I’m going to take a break, I’ll see you later!”

 

He skated off the ice, pretending not to hear as Yakov yelled at him furiously. He was used to it, and Yakov was as well. Victor had never been an obedient student, it was something that he just couldn’t be.

 

_Now, what to do with the rest of my day?_

 

Victor put away his skates and put on his coat and shoes, heading out of the rink.

 

_What can I do to surprise my audience now?_

 

He walked along the busy road, lost in his thoughts, passing shop after shop. He smiled wryly as he looked up to notice an old fading poster of last year’s Grand Prix, himself front and center, his long hair blowing behind him like a mane. He looked the same in the poster as he did now. Walking along, an idea suddenly struck him.

 

_Oh._

 

_Well, that **would** be different…_

 

Grinning quickly, he headed down the road, a spring in his step. Walking into the first barber shop he could find, he practically skipped inside.

 

_This will be so fun! And if I hate it, I can always grow it back out._

 

When Victor arrived back at the rink an hour later, Yakov yelled at him until he was blue in the face. Victor just beamed at him from under his new short hair.

 

_Yell at me all you want, Yakov. I feel free for the first time in as long as I can remember._


	5. Do It All Again: Yuri and Otabek Break Up, Then Find Each Other Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This isn’t working, Yura,” he had told him, “We need a break. It’s hurting our careers and you know it.”
> 
> “I don’t give a fuck about skating right now!” Yuri then cried, “I need you Beka, _please.”_
> 
> Otabek had left anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159397777399/if-this-was-us-meeting-for-the-first-time-id-do). "If this was us meeting for the first time, I'd do it all again. Everything. The fucks, the fuck ups, everything."
> 
>  
> 
> _Otayuri one-shot. Mentions of a past break-up, angst with a happy ending._

Yuri should have expected that seeing him again would be painful.

 

It had been five years since Otabek had thrown him the motorcycle helmet, five years since they had begun a budding friendship and Yuri had developed an awkward and embarrassing crush. Three years since they had confessed their feelings to one another. Two years since they had really started dating.

 

One year since they had broken up.

 

The breakup had been awful, Yuri red faced and sobbing while Otabek had packed, seemingly deaf to Yuri’s desperate pleas. It had been over something stupid, something small, but the tension of the skating season had gotten to both of them and Otabek had decided he needed to move out.

 

“Beka, you can’t go,” Yuri had sobbed, “Please don’t leave me.”

 

Otabek had remained nearly silent, but Yuri knew him well enough to tell that he was close to crying himself.

 

“This isn’t working, Yura,” he had told him, “We need a break. It’s hurting our careers and you know it.”

 

“I don’t give a fuck about skating right now!” Yuri then cried, “I need you Beka, _please.”_

 

Otabek had left anyway.

 

A year had passed. They had talked a little, on the phone and via Skype and social media. Their friends had pushed for them both to try and get back together, but Yuri was too stubborn to bend first. He figured Otabek felt the same. They never really made up and Yuri’s life seemed to drain of color.

 

_Without him, skating is just a job. I don’t feel passion anymore, not like I used to._

 

Now sitting at the Grand Prix Finals in current first place, he swallowed as he watched Otabek take the ice. He hadn’t seen him since their breakup and Yuri marveled at his beauty.

 

_God, he looks good. Fuck, I miss him so much._

 

Heart burning with longing, Yuri found a shadowed corner where he could watch the program. The music started and Yuri’s jaw dropped as the familiar words echoed over the ice.

 

It was a gentle song. Their song. Otabek skated on the ice as if he was desperately trying to convey a message to Yuri.

 

 _Are you watching?_ His movements seemed to say, _Do you see me, Yura?_

 

Yuri’s eyes filled with tears as he watched Otabek go into a graceful step sequence. His normally stoic expression was emotional, each movement stretching his endurance.

 

_Yura, are you watching?_

 

Yuri might not be the best at emotions, but he knew an apology when he saw one.

 

He watched as Otabek launched into a jump, a quad salchow, Yuri’s favorite. The song began to trail off to the ending and Yuri suddenly found himself racing to the edge of the rink. Otabek twisted into his final position, eyes locking with Yuri’s as he held his hands over his head.

 

Yuri’s heart pounded while the crowd cheered for Otabek. He walked to the gate, swallowing emotions that were pounding through his heart.

 

_I see you. I see you, Beka._

 

Otabek skated towards the gate, the sound of the rink drowning out in Yuri’s ears. Otabek was mere inches from him now, looking down at him with a piercing gaze.

 

Yuri knew that look.

 

“I love you,” Yuri said breathlessly, as if answering an unspoken question.

 

Otabek’s face relaxed into a gentle smile, one he saved only for Yuri.

 

“I love you too, Yura. I’m so sorry. I never should have left you,” he murmured, stepping towards the kiss and cry where his coach was waiting, turning his back to Yuri.

 

“Then don’t leave me again,” Yuri said fiercely, not caring who could hear, “If this was us meeting for the first time, I’d do it all again. Everything. The fucks, the fuck ups, everything. Christ, Beka, I love you!”

 

Otabek turned around to face him, completely missing as his scores were announced. It didn’t matter that cameras were on them, it didn’t matter that Otabek’s coach was looking furious. All that mattered now was them, together.

 

“I won’t,” Otabek whispered, stepping closer and cupping the side of Yuri’s face, “I never could resist you. This year’s been hell.”

 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Yuri murmured without malice, kissing Otabek’s hand. He knew they’d have a lot to talk about, a lot to sort through, a lot to forgive.

 

But for now, this was enough.


	6. Family: Yuri is sick, Victor takes care of him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yurio!” Victor called cheerfully from the kitchen, “I have soup!”
> 
> “Fuck off,” Yuri grumbled, burying deeper into the mound of blankets. He had no desire to deal with Victor’s pep talks in his present misery. In retrospect, crashing at his apartment may not have been the best choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sickfic featuring Yurio and Victor.
> 
> Prompt from [here.](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/158527772019/thats-language-for-go-away-im-just)

Yuri lay on Victor’s couch, sniffling. He had stumbled into practice earlier in the day with a terrible cold, cursing every deity known to man for the torturous headache he was enduring. Victor had taken one look at his pathetic condition and forced Yakov to let him drive Yuri to his apartment to rest. Now, Yuri was surrounded by warm blankets, pillows, and some magazines, attempting to stave off his boredom from doing nothing all day. **  
**

 

“Yurio!” Victor called cheerfully from the kitchen, “I have soup!”

 

“Fuck off,” Yuri grumbled, burying deeper into the mound of blankets. He had no desire to deal with Victor’s pep talks in his present misery. In retrospect, crashing at his apartment may not have been the best choice.

 

“Aw, Yuri,” Victor cooed, “Still not feeling well?”

 

“Still not getting the hint?” Yuri mumbled, “Go to hell. That’s me for ‘go away.’”

 

Victor laughed. “Would it change your mind if I said that Yuuri made the soup?”

 

Yuri raised his unhappy face up slightly from the blanket mound, nose peeking over top of the comforters.

 

“Maybe,” he grumbled, sitting up slightly. Yuuri’s cooking was better than his, after all, and certainly better than Victor’s. He supposed he could handle Victor’s company if it meant a decent meal.

 

Sitting up all the way, he groaned as a sudden pounding raced through his head. Falling back on the pillow, he covered his eyes, moaning in pain. He felt the couch dip slightly near his feet as Victor sat down and the clink of a bowl being set on the coffee table resonated through the living room.

 

“That bad, hm?” Victor asked, concerned, “Have you taken anything?”

 

_What the fuck do you think, asshole?_

 

“No, _mom,”_ Yuri scoffed, rubbing his forehead, “Just leave me here to die.”

 

Victor sighed heavily, standing up and walking into the kitchen. Yuri burrowed deeper into the blanket pile, misery settling into every aching muscle of his body. A few moments later, Victor returned with a thermometer, a glass of water, and a bottle of aspirin.

 

“Time to take your temperature!” he said, sticking the thermometer in Yuri’s mouth before he could object. Yuri grumbled in protest, but he kept his mouth closed, allowing it to work. After a minute or so, it beeped, and Victor pulled it out to check his temperature.

 

Frowning, he handed Yuri an aspirin and the glass of water. “You’ve got a bit of a fever, Yurio. This should help.”

 

Yuri swallowed the pill wordlessly before dropping back on the couch. His head still throbbing, he covered most of his face, attempting to keep as much light as possible away from his eyes.

 

“What do you feel like watching?” Victor asked, as if it was a normal day, “Normally, Yuuri helps me pick, but he’s visiting with Phichit today. ‘Showing him the sights,’ he said.”

 

Yuri peeked out of the blanket again, catching sight of Victor looking at him.

 

“You…” Yuri paused to cough, “You skipped out on touring around the city with them…for me?”

 

Victor tilted his head with a smile. “Of course I did. What is family for?”

 

Feeling touched in spite of himself, Yuri dropped his head back down on the pillow, eyes closing. He heard Victor humming quietly as he flipped through the channels on the tv. The sound relaxed Yuri and he soon dropped off into a warm, comfortable sleep.

 

_Thanks, Victor._


	7. Say It Back: Yuri's First "I Love You"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri believed that he had gone through hell, that he had experienced real pain in his eighteen years of life.
> 
> But nothing had ever felt as bad as this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159477888204/forgive-mepleasei-cant-live-without).

Yuri believed that he had gone through hell, that he had experienced real pain in his eighteen years of life.

 

But _nothing_ had ever felt as bad as this.

 

He sat on Victor’s couch, crying into Makkachin’s fur. It had been nearly midnight when he had arrived, rain-soaked and sobbing, to Victor and Yuuri’s shock. He had given no explanation for his arrival or why he was upset, he had simply launched himself into Victor’s arms, crying on his shoulder.

 

Shocked and worried, they guided him to the couch, bringing him hot tea and a towel to help dry him off. They had begged him to explain what was the matter, but Yuri only kept crying, burying his head in his hands. Eventually, Makkachin padded up to Yuri, snuggling against him, causing Yuri to drop down and sob into her fur.

 

Yuri’s phone had fallen out of his pocket when he sat down and it was constantly buzzing, someone desperately trying to get a hold of him.

 

“Yurio, your phone is ringing,” Yuuri said gently, “Do you want us to answer?”

 

Yuri shook his head, sobs quieting a little. He had no desire to answer who was on the other line, he wasn’t in any condition to talk.

 

“Are you sure?” Victor asked, looking down at Yuri’s cell, which was buzzing again, “It’s Otabek-”

 

Yuri’s sobs increased at the sound of his boyfriend’s name, burying his face in his hands again. He knew he must look absolutely horrendous, face red and blotchy, clothes damp and cold.

 

Yuuri sat down next to him, putting a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Yurio,” he began softly, “Did you and Otabek have a fight?”

 

Yuri’s head shot up, red-rimmed eyes blazing, still full of tears.

 

 _A fight? If only you knew, Katsudon,_ Yuri thought savagely, trying to get himself to calm down enough to talk.

 

“Yuri, tell us what’s going on,” Victor said, sitting on the coffee table in front of them, “You’re scaring us.”

 

Yuri took a deep breath, trying not to start crying again. “Beka…” he choked out slowly, “I... _fuck.”_

 

Victor raised an eyebrow slowly. “So, this is about him?”

 

Yuri nodded, running an unsteady hand through his hair. “I told him I...god, Victor, _he didn’t say it back.”_

 

“Didn’t say what back?” Victor asked gently, while Yuuri squeezed Yuri’s shoulder reassuringly.

 

“That he loved me,” Yuri confessed in a whisper, clutching his chest, “Fuck, I’ve never...I’ve never said that to _anyone_ before and he…”

 

His eyes shot up, filled with pain and insecurity, “He didn’t say it back! He just fucking _sat_ there. And I...I couldn’t take it, it was too much…”

 

“So you ran,” Victor finished softly, sharing a knowing glance with his husband. The three sat in silence for a moment, interrupted only by the buzz of Yuri’s phone. Sighing, Victor leaned down and without bothering to ask, he slide it open to answer.

 

“This is Victor,” he said quickly. There was a pause on the other line before a calm voice came through.

 

 _“Is he there?”_ Otabek asked, a waver in his voice betraying fear, _“Is he safe?”_

 

“Yuri’s here, with us,” Victor answered while Yuri buried his face in his knees, “He’s very upset.”

 

 _“Can I talk to him?”_ Otabek asked softly. Victor looked over at Yuri, who held out his hand wordlessly, taking the phone from Victor.

 

“It’s me,” Yuri said, wincing at how wrecked his voice sounded.

 

 _“Oh, Yura,”_ Otabek said sadly, _“I’m so sorry! You surprised me and then you left so fast…I was so worried about you!”_

 

Yuri swallowed, closing his eyes in attempt to stop the tears from starting again.

 

 _“Yura,”_ Otabek said nervously, words beginning to spill from his mouth, _“Forgive me, please! I can’t live without you, you know that. Of course I love you. I’ve been dying to say it to you, but when you said it to me I just...I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that you wanted me.”_

 

Yuri sniffed, rubbing at his eyes, still not saying a word.

 

 _“I love you,”_ Otabek continued frantically, _“And I’ll say it over and over until the day I die, if you want me.”_

 

“That day better not be any time soon,” Yuri whispered, feeling himself beginning to relax, “Because you have a lot to make up to me, Beka.”

 

_“Then come home. Come home Yura, and let me.”_


	8. Red: Yuri reacts to Otabek being injured during competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t let him on the ice!” Yakov barked at Victor, who was looking horrified at the scene. Yakov barked something at the nearest rink attendee, who nodded and ran off into the corridor, presumably to get help.
> 
> Yuri barely registered this, his body shaking in shock, ears ringing as he saw a pool of red beneath his boyfriend’s unconscious body. In his moment of panic, he was unaware that his whole body was trembling, that his face was pale and he looked like he was about to faint. He wrenched off his skate guards and stepped towards the rink, desperate to know if Otabek was alright, if he was…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159491462604/for-a-prompt-what-about-otayuri-and-one-of-them). _"For a prompt: what about otayuri and one of them getting hurt during a program/practice and the other freaks out?"_
> 
> tw: blood, injury, concussions

“Don’t let him on the ice!” Yakov barked at Victor, who was looking horrified at the scene. Yakov barked something at the nearest rink attendee, who nodded and ran off into the corridor, presumably to get help.

 

Yuri barely registered this, his body shaking in shock, ears ringing as he saw a pool of red beneath his boyfriend’s unconscious body. In his moment of panic, he was unaware that his whole body was trembling, that his face was pale and he looked like he was about to faint. He wrenched off his skate guards and stepped towards the rink, desperate to know if Otabek was alright, if he was…

 

_ Is he even moving?  _ Yuri thought, mind clouding with panic,  _ Oh my god, Beka. It was just a triple toe loop, you’ve landed that a thousand times...how could you fall? Oh my god, what if he’s… _

 

He felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his waist, holding him back.

 

“Let me  _ go!” _ he cried, lunging towards the wall as he watch Otabek swarmed by paramedics, “Victor, let me go,  _ please!” _

 

All he could see was red, red,  _ red _ , staining Otabek’s costume, staining the ice. The audience was completely silent and Yuri’s screams were echoing through the rink. 

 

“Yurachka, calm down,” Victor soothed in his ear, voice wavering, “He’s going to be fine, but you need to calm down and stay here. The paramedics are helping and Yakov is calling an ambulance.”

 

Yuri kept struggling, not caring that there were probably cameras on him and that the whole rink was dead silent, their conversation being overheard by thousands of people. His pleading cries quickly silenced as he he saw a stretcher being brought out onto the ice, Otabek as still as death. Yuri kept it together until one of the paramedics stepped aside and he caught sight of the enormous gash across his boyfriend’s forehead, face stained with blood.

 

“BEKA!” Yuri cried in horror, wrenching himself out of Victor’s grasp. He heard Victor calling frantically behind him, but he ignored it, skating as quickly as he could towards the scene. The paramedics were calling out to him to stop but he couldn’t hear them, focusing only on Otabek’s unconscious form. He collapsed next to him, putting his hands on Otabek’s face, blood pooling in his palms.

 

“Get him away from here!” one of the paramedics called, “We’ve got to move him!”

 

“Beka, Beka,  _ please,” _ Yuri sobbed, “Wake up, you have to wake up…”

 

“YURI!” Victor called from behind him, wrenching him up into his arms, “Yuri, back off. You have to step back so they can help him.”

 

“Victor, I don’t think he’s breathing!” Yuri sobbed, “He’s  _ not breathing!” _

 

Victor held him firmly as they watched Otabek loaded up onto a stretcher, the sound of another pair of skates joining them.

 

“Victor, we need to get him off the ice,” Yuuri said calmly, gesturing towards Yuri, “He needs to calm down and then we can drive him to the hospital.”

 

_ Fuck that, I’m going in the ambulance. _

 

“No!” Yuri cried, “I need to...I have to go with him, I have to make sure he’s okay!” 

 

Victor and Yuuri both helped guide Yuri back off the ice onto the edge of the rink where he collapsed on the nearest bench, running a shaking hand through his hair. He trembled slightly as Yuuri knelt down in front of him, taking a firm hold of his shoulder and looking him in the eye.

 

“Yurio, look at me,” he said calmly while Yuri raised his head, “I know it looks scary, but Otabek is going to be alright. I heard them say it was a concussion and they just needed to bandage his head and do some x-rays. He’s alive, it’s alright.”

 

_ He’s alive. Concussion. He’s going to be alright. _

Yuri was still shaking, but he nodded to show he had heard, running a hand through his hair again. Victor grimaced at the sight.

 

“What is it?” Yuri croaked, “What’s wrong?”

 

Victor glanced at Yuuri before sitting down on the bench next to him. “Yuri...before we drive to the hospital, you need to get cleaned up, okay? You’ve got...you’ve got blood all over you.”

 

Yuri held his arms out, mouth opening in horror as he realized Otabek’s blood was staining not only his skates, but his arms and hands. He raised a trembling hand to his face and hair and he felt sick as he felt a hot wetness on his fingers.

 

“I’m going to be sick,” he said quickly, hunching over, feeling warm hands on his back. Despite the words, he managed to keep it together, hearing a soft conversation in the distance as a warm blanket was draped over his shoulders.

 

“Yurachka,” Yakov croaked, causing Yuri to shoot up his head, “They took him in the ambulance. His vitals are good and he is breathing. He woke up and asked for you, they told him you’d meet him there.”

 

Yuri sighed in relief, pressing his face down into his hands. He began to become more aware of the rest of the arena now, an announcement playing that the program was suspended for the time being and the audience mumbling in shocked voice. Yuri realized very uncomfortably that he was visible from every point in the rink, dropping his eyes to the floor.

 

“I have to see him,” Yuri said fiercely, voice still shaky.

 

Victor nodded. “We know. Let’s get you cleaned up and we’ll take you to him, alright? Don’t worry Yuri, remember, he woke up and he’s okay. Everything’s going to be alright.”

 

With a nod, Yuri allowed himself to be taken out of the rink into the locker room. After Yuuri and Victor helped clean the blood off of his face, he changed into his spare set of clothes, sickened by the sight of his performance outfit.

 

“Come on, Yurio,” Victor said, pulling him away from the bloodstained clothes, “Let’s go see Otabek.”

 

_ He’s alive. He’s okay and he’s alive. That’s all that matters right now. _


	9. Koshka: Yuri loves his cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri rolled his eyes. “Cat people don’t care about breeds or colors, Victor. She followed me home from the rink one day and made herself at home. She chose me, again proving that cats are better than dogs.”
> 
> “You really love her, don’t you?” Victor asked with a smile.
> 
> “Of course I do!” Yuri said, face reddening, “She actually listens to me, unlike people do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here.](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159540791354/are-you-still-doing-writing-prompts-because-i) _"I would love to see one involving Yurio's cat, maybe how he got her or introducing her to Yuuri/Viktor/Otabek. She's a beauty."_
> 
> Or, how Yuri P. came to get his cat and what she means to him.

It was a well-known fact that Yuri Plisetsky rarely smiled.

 

_ Smirked?  _ Yes.  _ Scowled? _ Definitely. But a real smile? That was something else entirely. As his friendship with Otabek bloomed and he became more comfortable around his rinkmates, his friends quickly discovered that there was one thing that without fail would always make him smile.

 

“Yuri, get back on the ice!” Yakov barked, watching his protege scrolling through his phone.

 

“Yeah, fine!” Yuri said gruffly, tearing his eyes away from the screen of his phone, a ghost of smile on his face.

 

Mila skated past him, ruffling his hair from the other edge of the rink. “Who are you texting, kid?” she asked with a knowing smirk.

 

“No one, hag!” Yuri barked, shoving his phone into his bag. Victor came up behind him, smirking.

 

“No, you’re just looking at pictures of your  _ koshka,  _ am I right?” Victor asked cheekily.

 

Yuri’s face burned. “You’re the one with an entire folder on your phone dedicated to that four-legged slob monster!”

 

“Makkachin is a purebred poodle and is the most wonderful dog in the world,” Victor said loyally, “What do you have to say about  _ your _ four-legged hissing demon?”

 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Cat people don’t care about breeds or colors, Victor. She followed me home from the rink one day and made herself at home. She chose  _ me, _ again proving that cats are better than dogs.”

 

“You really love her, don’t you?” Victor asked with a smile.

 

“Of course I do!” Yuri said, face reddening, “She actually  _ listens  _ to me, unlike people do.”

 

Victor’s face showed some shock, it was unlike Yuri to voice any kind of weakness or insecurity. His face changed from one of teasing to one of understanding.

 

“Well, then I would be honored to meet this koshka of yours,” Victor said kindly, “Maybe she can teach me some manners.”

 

Yuri looked up in surprise. “Really? You’d...want to meet her? Otabek’s the only person who ever wanted to meet her before.”

 

Victor smiled gently. “Well, maybe we can make a night of it then. The four of us. You, me, Yuuri, and Otabek. What do you say?”

 

Yuri nodded once. “Sounds good. As long as it’s no dogs allowed and you make katsudon.”

 

“You’ve got a deal.”


	10. Numb: Pure Otayuri Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek’s heart thumped as Yuri pressed against him and he was reminded again just how much in love he was.
> 
> “Nothing you say is bullshit,” Otabek replied, “You could be reciting ‘The Theme of King JJ’ in French backwards and I’d listen to it.”
> 
> Yuri’s eyes narrowed. “Beka, you’re sweet, but if you want to be in our bed tonight, do not mention JJ in relation to me ever again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159548461689/some-otayuri-fluff-maybe). _"some otayuri fluff maybe? :)"_
> 
> Otabek is reminded how much he loves Yuri.

Otabek loved Yuri a lot, but his leg was  _ really _ starting to get numb.

 

“How long has he been asleep like that?” Victor asked, amused. They were over at the penthouse that Chris had rented for the week, a raging party with the international skaters in full swing. Otabek and Yuri hadn’t even been drinking, both completely exhausted from practice. They had found an unused couch in the corner of the room and Yuri had collapsed, promptly falling asleep on Otabek’s lap.

 

“About an hour,” Otabek murmured fondly, stroking Yuri’s hair, “You’d think the pounding music and screaming would wake him up, but…”

 

Victor smiled. “He’s always been a heavy sleeper. Comes from growing up around a bunch of loud screaming Russians.”

 

Yuri shifted in his sleep, a hand moving to rest on Otabek’s leg. His heart thudded at the sight of his boyfriend looking so small and vulnerable, despite his age. Victor bade him a quiet ‘goodbye’ before heading off, leaving the two of them alone. Otabek was focused on Yuri’s steady breathing, how his hands curled in his sleep, how each strand of hair moved whenever he would shift.

 

He was the most beautiful thing Otabek had ever seen.

 

They had gotten together a few years back during Yuri’s nineteenth birthday. Afterwards, it was a shitstorm of media, ducking from Yuri’s fangirls, and a wild ride of traveling back and forth between Russia and Kazakhstan. Otabek knew how lucky he was to be with Yuri, it stunned him every day that his boyfriend loved him as much as he did.

 

Yuri shifted again, causing the numbness in his legs to get worse. Deciding it was probably time Yuri awoke, he leaned down and kissed his boyfriend’s forehead softly, leaning down towards his ear.

 

“Yura,” he murmured, “Yura, it’s time to get up.”

 

Yuri grumbled in protest, blinking blearily as the party raged around them. He yawned- _ Oh my god so cute _ , Otabek thought-and sat up, groaning as he dropped his head on Otabek’s shoulder.

 

“How do all these assholes have this much energy?” Yuri complained, “They practiced as hard as we did.”

 

“No one practices as hard as you do,” Otabek laughed, kissing the side of Yuri’s face, “You went for hours today.”

 

Yuri rolled his eyes, swinging his legs over Otabek’s lap. “Yeah, and I’m fucking exhausted. Why did we come to this again?”

 

Otabek smiled, kissing his forehead. “Because, someone who shall remain nameless, ‘wanted to fucking rage.’”

 

“You should stop listening to me,” Yuri laughed, leaning on Otabek’s chest, “Half the things I say are bullshit.”

 

Otabek’s heart thumped as Yuri pressed against him and he was reminded again just how much in love he was.

 

“Nothing you say is bullshit,” Otabek replied, “You could be reciting ‘The Theme of King JJ’ in French backwards and I’d listen to it.”

 

Yuri’s eyes narrowed. “Beka, you’re sweet, but if you want to be in our bed tonight, do not mention JJ in relation to me ever again.”

 

Otabek laughed, reaching down and drawing Yuri into a gentle kiss, a real kiss. They forgot for a moment that they were in public, both melting into the sensations.

 

“Boys, break it up!” Christophe called from the corner, causing them to pull apart reluctantly, “Let’s keep it PG!”

 

“‘Keep it PG,’ he says,” Yuri snorted, “He’s half naked and riding a pole.”

 

Otabek laughed lightly, still a little breathless from their kiss. “Maybe later tonight we can bump up the rating, yeah?”

 

Yuri raised an eyebrow, smirking a bit. “Beka, you’re on.”

 

Otabek’s legs were still numb from Yuri’s weight being pressed onto him. But he found as they got closer, that he didn’t really mind.


	11. Implosion: How Otabek and Yuri handle fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They rarely fight, but when they do it’s _explosive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [ here.](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159564494484/how-do-yuri-and-otabek-come-back-to-each-other) _"How do Yuri and Otabek come back to each other after a fight?? Who apologizes first?"_
> 
> A short drabble regarding how Otabek and Yuri handle fights.

They rarely fight, but when they do it’s _explosive._  Not in the way people would think, with yelling and throwing things, more like an implosion. Otabek goes very still and his voice becomes deathly quiet, while Yuri raises his voice once, and then stops talking completely. They argue, sometimes, but that’s not the same. True _fights_ have only happened a few times and usually neither of them can ever remember how they started because they’re so worked up.

 

Otabek caves first because he can’t stand Yuri’s silent treatment. He feels sometimes that Yuri’s the only person who really _talks_  to him, not over him or around him, and it kills him when he won’t answer. So, he apologizes quietly and makes Yuri piroshki. They are absolutely horrible, but Yuri is touched and accepts.

 

It’s no secret that Yuri is stubborn, but he’ll apologize first if he knows he’s in the wrong. Sometimes it takes him a few days because he _hates_  saying sorry, hates admitting how weak he feels without Otabek to support him. Not to mention, he is terrible at apologies. 

 

When Yuri apologizes, he chokes out the words,  _“I’m sorry, Beka,”_ and it breaks Otabek’s heart because Yuri sounds so _vulnerable._  Yuri becomes uncharacteristically clingy after that, draping himself over Otabek on the couch and burying his face in his shoulder, trying to be as close as possible to his boyfriend. Otabek knows how few close people Yuri has in his life, and he always is sure to hold Yuri close in times like these, reminding him that he is loved.


	12. Game Night: Victuuri and Otayuri Game Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, no, no, fuck!” Yuri growled as his character fell off a building, “Beka, respawn me!”
> 
> Victor chortled from the floor, where Yuuri was leaning on him, both focusing on the screen as well. “For someone who is supposed to be so good at video games, you’re not doing very well,” he teased lightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here.](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159580090704/otayuri-optional-victuuri-gaming-night-d) _"otayuri (+ optional victuuri), gaming night"_

“Hey, asshole!” Yuri barked down at Victor from the couch, “Pass the chips!”

 

They were sprawled out in Victor and Yuuri’s St. Petersburg apartment surrounded by junk food and video games, a reward for a tough week of training. Otabek was visiting from Almaty and was crashing with them, happy to join in “family game night” as Victor cheerfully dubbed it.

 

“No need to be crude,” Victor admonished from the floor, passing the bowl up to Yuri. He scoffed, grabbing the bowl and hoisting it up into his lap, not tearing his eyes away from the screen. Otabek was sitting next to him in equal concentration, staring at the screen and pressing frantically on the controller.

 

“No, no, no,  _ fuck!” _ Yuri growled as his character fell off a building, “Beka, respawn me!”

 

Victor chortled from the floor, where Yuuri was leaning on him, both focusing on the screen as well. “For someone who is supposed to be  _ so good _ at video games, you’re not doing very well,” he teased lightly.

 

“Shut up, old man!” Yuri barked, “I will  _ end  _ you.”

 

Otabek helped Yuri’s character come back to life and they silently worked together to try and combat the enemies on the screen. Yuri knew that while Otabek may not look it, he was fiercely competitive, and quite the gamer. Yuri tried to be as effortlessly cool-headed, but his brain to mouth filter had ideas of its own.

 

“Shit, shit,  _ shit,” _ he growled, dodging projectiles, “Motherfucking, ass-kicking, shit, fucker-”

 

“Yuri, watch your language!” Yuuri laughed from below.

 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “What, am I hurting your delicate ears, or something? SHIT!”

 

He groaned in frustration as his character died again, using up the last of his lives. He used the opportunity to focus on Otabek, who was silently sniping his way through the level to the goal. Yuuri was doing alright as well, sneaking around a mostly empty part and gathering resources. Victor was laughing, completely ignoring the mission and enjoying having his character leap off of buildings.

 

“This game is fun!” Victor laughed, “I don’t care much for the shooting and explosions, though.”

 

“Victor, that is the  _ whole point,”  _ Yuri hissed, turning his eyes back to the screen as Otabek was getting closer to the end, “Yes, Beka, get them!”

 

Otabek delivered the final blow to the last enemy, getting them past the level. He sat up, smiling a little as the screen flashed “CONGRATULATIONS” at them.

 

“Well, I had to avenge you,” Otabek said to Yuri with a smile, “They murdered you in cold blood.”

 

“Ha ha, very funny,” Yuri smirked in spite of himself, “We’ll get ‘em in the next level. And oi, Victor! How about actually helping next time instead of goofing off?”

 

Victor raised his hand in a mock salute. “Yes, sir!”


	13. Shine: Yuri vents to Otabek after a frustrating day of practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek was surprised when he felt Yuri shift, curling into into his shirt. He was even more surprised as he felt Yuri’s shoulders tremble a little, a sure sign he was trying to hold back from crying. His heart sparked with pain for his boyfriend, recognizing the frustration came from Yuri’s worryingly perfectionist attitude.
> 
> “Yura...” Otabek said finally, “Are you alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here.](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159658663079/umm-i-saw-your-writing-text-thing-uhhyurio) _"Yurio being a bit sad or having a bad day an Otabek cheers him up with fluff?"_

To Otabek’s credit, he didn’t ask when Yuri stormed through the front door of their shared apartment, tossing down his practice gear and slamming down his keys. He stayed silent as Yuri marched to the bathroom, slamming the door with a frustrated expression on his face.

 

He knew sometimes the stress of being one of Russia’s top athletes got to Yuri, it was no surprise the occasionally he came home stressed. He sat quietly on the couch working on one of his new mixes for his next DJing gig until Yuri finally came out of the shower. Clad in pajamas, he stormed over to the couch, collapsing next to Otabek and laying his head on his lap. 

 

Otabek smiled fondly, setting his laptop on the coffee table before leaning down and threading his fingers through Yuri’s long hair. He marveled at the softness of it, the brilliance of the blonde. For a moment he was distracted from Yuri’s apparent distress, but he was startled back into the moment when Yuri gave a heavy sigh.

 

“I keep missing that _fucking_  flip,” Yuri grumbled, “And without it, I can’t get my base score higher than JJ’s or Katsudon’s.”

 

 _Ah, so that’s what it is,_  Otabek thought quickly, _It really eats at him when he messes up in practice._

 

“And _don’t_  go telling me I’ll land it another day,” Yuri spat before Otabek could speak.

 

Otabek said nothing, just rubbed a gentle hand on Yuri’s back, continuing to run his other hand through his hair. He knew that Yuri wasn’t angry at _him,_  he was frustrated with himself. He had learned very quickly in their relationship not to push Yuri when he got like this. Usually what he needed was quiet and time.

 

Otabek was surprised when he felt Yuri shift, curling into into his shirt. He was even more surprised as he felt Yuri’s shoulders tremble a little, a sure sign he was trying to hold back from crying. His heart sparked with pain for his boyfriend, recognizing the frustration came from Yuri’s worryingly perfectionist attitude.

 

“Yura...” Otabek said finally, “Are you alright?”

 

_Stupid question, Altin. He’s shaking in your arms. Say something!_

 

“No,” Yuri growled into his chest, “I’m not.”

 

Otabek sighed, gathering Yuri up in his arms and shifting so they were both laying down, Otabek spooning him on the couch. Yuri turned again, tucking his head under Otabek’s chin taking slow, shuddering breaths.

 

“It’s alright,” Otabek murmured, “Yura, love, you are the best damn skater in the world. It’s okay to have an off day.”

 

Yuri shifted a bit, pulling back and looking up at him in surprise. “Beka...do you really mean that?”

 

Otabek leaned down, kissing Yuri’s forehead. “Of course I do. It’s the truth.”

 

Yuri gave him a watery smile before tucking his head back under Otabek’s chin. They held each other for the rest of the night, comforted by each other’s closeness. As they laid on the couch, Otabek marveled at Yuri’s beauty and strength.

 

_You may have had an off day today, but there’s no way anyone could ever outshine you._


	14. Disorientation: Yuri is ill, Victor and Yuuri care for him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yurachka, you are in no condition to jump right now,” Victor growled, “Come here.”
> 
> Yuri didn’t have the energy to argue, and he allowed himself to be lead off the ice onto a nearby bench. A cool hand pressed against his forehead and he made out some mumbling around him.
> 
>  
> 
> _Whatsgoinon? Oh, right. We came here for a late night practice. The three of us...in...Russia? Japan? What rink is this? Ugh, my head…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here.](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159660174414/victuuri-taking-care-of-a-sickyurio) _"victuuri taking care of a sick!yurio?"_

Yuri first noticed there was something wrong when Victor’s cheerful words to him were a blur from across the ice. His head swam with kind of a dull throbbing pain and there was a sheen of sweat across his forehead. Victor noticed something off and stopped mid-conversation with Yuuri to head over and pull Yuri to the side. **  
**

 

“Victor, what the hell-” Yuri growled before a sudden wave of dizziness passed over him and he was forced to grip Victor’s arm as support. He whimpered as Victor pressed a cool hand to his forehead, frowning at the heat he felt.

 

“Yurio, you’re not well,” Victor said quickly, “You need to stop and take a break-”

 

Yuri sighed, trying to roll his eyes and failing. “I’m fine, okay? Leave me alone.”

 

Victor opened his mouth to protest but Yuri had already skated away to the center of the ice, forcing his muddled head to focus.

 

_Okay. First jump is a triple axel. Then a...a...salchow? Crap, I can’t remember._

 

Shaking his head, Yuri positioned himself to go into his jumps. He heard some yelling behind him and before he could leap off the ice, a pair of hands gripped his arm.

 

“Yurachka, you are in no condition to jump right now,” Victor growled, “Come here.”

 

Yuri didn’t have the energy to argue, and he allowed himself to be lead off the ice onto a nearby bench. A cool hand pressed against his forehead and he made out some mumbling around him.

 

_Whatsgoinon? Oh, right. We came here for a late night practice. The three of us...in...Russia? Japan? What rink is this? Ugh, my head…._

 

“You’re really burning up, bratik,” Victor said worriedly as Yuri’s face flushed with heat.

 

Yuri whimpered a little, rubbing at his forehead. His whole body ached and was flushed red with heat, a sheen of sweat beginning to break out over his body.

 

_It hurts. I want to go home._

 

“Dedushka,” he whispered, wishing his grandfather was there, “It hurts.”

 

“Victor, we need to take him home,” Yuuri said quietly, “He definitely has a fever.”

 

If Yuri had more energy, he would have grumbled and complained as he felt his skates being untied and slipped off and then someone scoop him up into their arms and begin to carry him through the rink. He vaguely registered getting in a car and driving some distance before being picked up again.

 

When he came to more full awareness, he registered that he was laid out on Yuuri and Victor’s couch, a cool washcloth on his forehead. He was embarrassed to realize that he was in his pajamas, meaning someone had helped change his clothes. A quiet kid’s movie was playing on the tv and Makkachin was curled at his feet. He blinked blearily to see Yuuri sitting a few feet away, glass of water in hand.

 

“Hey Yurio,” he said gently, “Do you think you can swallow? I’ve brought you some medicine.”

 

Yuri groaned, his throat feeling swollen and hot. He nodded a little, coughing at the slight movement. Yuuri handed him some medicine and waited for him to put in in his mouth while he grabbed the glass, drinking slowly.

 

Tears burned his eyes as the water slid down his throat. He was sore, exhausted, hot, and confused, and all he wanted was his grandfather. Curling into a small ball under the covers, he was overcome by a thudding wave of pain in his head.

 

“Dedushka,” he whimpered, “на пóмощь!”

 

His plea for help was heard by Victor, who came over and run a cool hand over his forehead.

 

“Hush, bratik. We’re here, we’ll help you,” Victor soothed. The coolness of his pale fingers was calming Yuri down a little, as was Yuuri’s gentle presence. Colors swarmed in and out of his vision as his fever raged through, the pounding headache not abating.

 

_Wait. Where are we? Katsudon…and Victor? Is...what’s happening…_

 

“Where’s Beka?” he mumbled, “Gotta...plan the exhibition skate…”

 

Victor and Yuuri exchanged worried glances before looking down to him.

 

“Yurio, your exhibition skate was months ago,” Victor said gently, “You nearly gave Yakov a heart attack with it, remember?”

 

_Months? No, but...I was...going to go…_

 

“Gotta go,” he slurred, “Gotta see Beka at the club. Need...to sneak in…”

 

“I _knew_ that’s how that happened!” Victor hissed while Yuuri shushed him, pressing another cool washcloth on Yuri’s forehead.

 

“Where’s dedushka?” Yuri mumbled, “Missed my short program…need...to keep katsudon on the ice...can’t retire…”

 

Yuuri’s eyes softened a little as Victor audibly cooed at the words. Yuri on the other hand was completely unaware of everything around him, mumbling thoughts as they would cross through his brain.

 

“Victor, Katsudon,” he whined, “It hurts. Make it stop.”

 

“Don’t worry, Yuri,” Yuuri said as Victor grabbed a hold of Yuri’s hand, “We’re here.”

 

“We’re not leaving you.”


	15. Pride: Yakov reflects on Yuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yakov marveled at Yuri’s determination. Victor had been a talented student, yes, but he lacked the pure determination to win that Yuri seemed to possess. Victor had cared nothing for winning medals, he seemed to constantly be seeking something more, whereas Yuri devoted every waking moment to being the best, to perfecting his craft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here.](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159681454594/i-dont-if-youre-still-doing-writing-prompts-but) _"...something about Yurio and his coaches?"_

Yakov was immensely proud of Yuri Plisetsky, but he was also extremely worried.

 

“Yuri, again!” Yakov barked from the side of the rink.

 

He could almost see Yuri grumbling internally, but instead he simply gritted his teeth and nodded at his coaches instructions. Setting himself up to run through the sequence again, he put himself in position and began running through the brutal routine another time.

 

Yakov marveled at Yuri’s determination. Victor had been a talented student, yes, but he lacked the pure determination to win that Yuri seemed to possess. Victor had cared nothing for winning medals, he seemed to constantly be seeking something more, whereas Yuri devoted every waking moment to being the best, to perfecting his craft.

 

Ever since Yuri had left the small flat he shared with his grandfather to come stay with Lilia, a switched seemed to have been flipped. He stopped being lazy, began to devote himself to practice. Despite the initial awkwardness of working with his ex, Yakov appreciated having Lilia there for teamwork.  Lilia taught Yuri to be an artist on the ice while Yakov taught him to _fly_. Yuri’s daily routine became nothing but ballet, skating, sleeping, and eating. As a coach of a future Olympian, Yakov appreciated Yuri’s dedication.

 

However, as a guardian and someone close to his protégé, Yakov was worried. He knew Yuri had pushed himself past his limits to win the Grand Prix Finals the year before, and then there was the disastrous exhibition skate where Yuri had foolishly snuck into a nightclub and asked his Kazakh friend to DJ for him on the ice, then joining him in some kind of teenage duel with far to much reckless abandon and skin for Yakov’s liking.

 

That routine had sent the worldwide media reeling, launching Yuri into a kind of infamy.

 

Yakov watched as Yuri went methodically through his step sequence, pushing himself through each movement. More than ever now, Yuri seemed completely determined to succeed.

 

Yakov was proud, but he was also worried.

 

Victor had broken under the pressure and Yakov had lost him, one of the biggest failures he had ever experienced as a coach. Fortunately, Katsuki Yuuri had been there to put Victor back together, helping him reclaim his identity and rebuild him as a coach and even a person. Yakov was worried he would lose Yuri in much the same way, lose him how he lost Victor. He didn’t think he’d be so lucky to find another Katsuki Yuuri a second time.

 

 _He is too concerned with perfection,_ Yakov thought worriedly as he watched Yuri go through the back half of his routine, _He is pushing himself too hard. He needs to learn he can win without pushing his body and mind to the limit every time, or he is going to break down._

 

Would Yuri listen to reason? Would he understand that a break was needed? Yakov was unsure.

 

For now, he’d simply watch, give gruff advice, a gentle hand on the shoulder when needed. He smiled as he watched Yuri launch into his final jump, a quad flip, something he had been working on with Victor and Yuuri in practice. He felt a warmth go through him at the sight of his student becoming so confident in his new performance elements.

 

 _He is no longer arrogant,_ Yakov thought, _Even though he has much to be arrogant about._

 

“How was it?” Yuri asked, wiping sweat off of his forehead as he skated towards his coach. Yakov launched into his usual lecture, picking apart each move and telling Yuri what to improve upon. Yuri said nothing, only nodding and taking in every word of his coach. 

 

When he was finished, Yakov sent him off for a quick water break, watching as Yuri all but collapsed on a nearby bench, running an exhausted hand through his hair. A protectiveness rose in Yakov, the kind he felt whenever he looked at one of his students.

 

Yes, Yakov was immensely proud of Yuri Plisetsky and no matter what, that would never change.


	16. Don't Go: Yuuri has a bad night, Yuri comforts him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How long have you been out here like this?” Yuri asked, an edge to his voice, ignoring the question. Yuuri just shrugged, looking back out over the city.
> 
> _Fuck, he’s shaking! Oh, should I get him a blanket or something._
> 
> Yuri walked into the living room, pulling a large blanket off of the back of the couch. He walked back out the door and draped it over Yuuri, tucking it around his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here.](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159689273629/do-you-know-what-hurts-the-most-about-a-broken) _"Do you know what hurts the most about a broken heart? Not being able to remember how you felt before."_

Yuri should have known that something was wrong the moment Victor showed up to the party alone. Since moving to St. Petersburg together, he and Yuuri had been virtually inseparable. With a wedding to plan and competitions to win, the two of them had taken over the rink with a storm of disgusting displays of romantic affection and cheerfulness.

 

The party was at Mila’s place, full of skaters, hockey players, and others that worked in or near the rink where they all practiced. Mila had decided to throw it after deciding that everyone needed a break after the intensity of the Olympic trials. Yuri had been among the first to arrive, helping set up the food and drinks and casually chatting with Mila and Georgi.

 

An hour or so later and it was in full swing, pounding music and laughter heard from every corner of the apartment. Victor and Yuuri hadn’t arrived yet and while Yuri was loathe to admit it, he was bored without them there. Victor had become like an older brother to him and Yuuri a friend.

 

 _Three friends now,_ Yuri thought to himself, _Mila, Beka, and Yuuri. Too bad Mila’s drunk off her ass right now, Beka’s in Almaty, and Yuuri’s not even here._

 

A sudden ringing of the doorbell pulled him from his thoughts. Figuring everyone else was too wasted to answer, his sober self went to go open the front door and greet the guests. He turned the knob, opening it and he was surprised to see Victor standing alone.

 

“Hey, Victor, where’s Katsudon?” he inquired by way of greeting. Victor’s jaw tightened but he said nothing, walking into the apartment and heading immediately for the bar area. Yuri’s eyes narrowed, annoyed that Victor had ignored him, but he was more concerned why Yuuri was absent.

 

_Victor looks upset. I wonder if they had a fight._

 

Pulling out his phone, Yuri shot a quick text off to Yuuri.

 

 **Yuri** : hey katsudon you coming or what?

 **Katsudon** : No.

 **Yuri** : whats wrong are you okay?

 **Katsuon** : Not really.

 

That was enough for Yuri. Figuring no one would miss him much, he slung on his jacket and headed out into the chilly night. Fortunately, Yuuri and Victor’s place wasn’t far from Mila’s, and if he went fast, he could make it in about fifteen minutes.

 

 _If Victor upset him I’m going to kick his ass,_ Yuri thought savagely, _Asshole._

 

Victor and Yuuri’s apartment was in sight now and Yuri pulled out the spare key he kept in his wallet. He had gotten it from them so they could tag team walking Makkachin during the day while they were all busy with practice. Thrusting the key in the outside door, he turned the lock and headed up the stairs to where their apartment was.

 

Reaching the door in the mostly quiet hall, Yuri raised his hand to knock gently. When there was no answer, he tried the knob, surprised to find that it was unlocked. Walking in, he saw the apartment was mainly dark, Makkachin snoring gently on the couch. The door to the balcony was open, cool breeze rushing through the apartment. Yuri could make out a sitting figure on the balcony, look out at the city.

 

_Aw, Katsudon. Fuck, he looks so sad._

 

Yuri walked over, making sure to make noise so Yuuri wouldn’t be startled.

 

“Katsudon, it’s me,” Yuri said quietly, as Yuuri turned his head back to look at him. Yuri’s gut clenched a bit when he saw that Yuuri had been crying.

 

“Oh, Yurio,” Yuuri croaked, “What are you doing here?”

 

Yuri walked outside, leaning on the railing and looking down at Yuuri in trepidation. A sudden blast of wind caused him to shiver, looking down at Yuuri’s trembling form.

 

“How long have you been out here like this?” Yuri asked, an edge to his voice, ignoring the question. Yuuri just shrugged, looking back out over the city.

 

_Fuck, he’s shaking! Oh, should I get him a blanket or something?_

 

Yuri walked into the living room, pulling a large blanket off of the back of the couch. He walked back out the door and draped it over Yuuri, tucking it around his shoulders.

 

“If you’re going to sit out in the freezing cold, at least cover up,” Yuri grumbled, sitting down next to Yuuri on the balcony. Yuuri said nothing, but moved so that part of the blanket was thrown around Yurio’s shoulders as well.

 

“You should too,” Yuuri mumbled. Yuri didn’t know what to say, not sure if he should push to find out what was going on, or if he should stay silent. He opted for the latter, sitting in silence with Yuuri, both looking out over the St. Petersburg lights. After a while he felt Yuuri scoot closer to him, presumably to get warm.

 

“Katsudon, what the hell is going on?” he asked, eventually losing his patience, turning his gaze directly on Yuuri.

 

Yuuri sighed, sniffing a little. Yuri held his breath, hoping he hadn’t upset him too much with his brash question. After a moment, Yuuri turned to him, with that kind of heart-open honest gaze he had come to expect from him.

 

“Do you know what hurts the most about a broken heart?” Yuuri asked out of the blue. Yuri had no idea what to say, only shook his head, shocked at the depth of the question.

 

“Not being able to remember how you felt before,” Yuuri continued, looking out over the city.

 

_What the hell? Did he and Victor break up or something? What is this poetic bullshit?_

 

“Victor doesn’t think he can coach me anymore,” Yuuri said softly, tremors in his voice betraying pain, “He doesn’t think he can coach me and skate at the same time. He suggested I go back to Detroit under Celestino for the rest of the season.”

 

“What?” Yuri hissed, outraged, “He…are you serious?”

 

Yuuri sniffed, tears coming to his eyes. “Yeah. He…he said he thinks it would be good for us, to have a break. So I’m sure this is what I want.”

 

_Oh, Victor, you self-destructive moron._

 

“Victor’s scared,” Yuri said quickly, noting how Yuuri’s head shot up in shock at the words, “He’s scared that you’re going to leave him, so he’s pushing you away first.”

 

“But…why?” Yuuri whispered, looking shocked.

 

Yuri shrugged. “It’s what he does. Look, I know Victor seems all confident, but in reality, he is just as clueless as you are. This is his first serious relationship too. When he gets scared, he pushes people away.”

 

Yuuri tightened the blanket around their shoulders, scooting a little closer to Yuri, saying nothing. They sat in uneasy silence for a few more minutes. Yuri didn’t want to push Yuuri to talk, but he was uncomfortable with silences, and afraid he was going to make this worse.

 

“He’s an idiot,” Yuuri mumbled after a time, causing Yuri to laugh a little.

 

“Yeah, he is,” Yuri smirked, “But, he just needs to know you believe in him. He’s never had someone depend on him like you do. Well, other than Makkachin.”

 

Yuuri looked over at him, eyes wide with some emotion Yuri couldn’t place. “Yurio, when did you get so wise?”

 

Yuri gave a long-suffering sigh, nudging Yuuri with his shoulder. “Well, one of us has to keep his head on straight, right? Just talk to him, Yuuri. I promise, he doesn’t want you to leave.”

 

_He’d be crazy to let you go._


	17. Let Down: Yuri's former crush is revealed, to his embarrassment and horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he reached his grandfather’s apartment, Yuri raced up the stairs, opening the door, barely hearing his grandfather’s confused greeting before he threw himself into his arms, crying on his shoulder.
> 
> “Dedushka,” he sobbed, “I’m such an idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here.](https://kanekkis.tumblr.com/post/159719273579/i-am-in-love-with-your-writing-if-youre-still) _"how about some more yuri angst? maybe something where his grandpa helps cheer him up?"/"what do you do when someone you love lets you down, really fucks you over?"_

Yuri was at the rink late, much later than normal, to clean up a part of his program. When Yakov finally cleared him to leave, Yuri was exhausted, sore, and frustrated. Many of his rinkmates had left hours before, waving him hasty goodbyes. It was frustrating that he was the only one who still had to balance his schoolwork with a tutor alongside his practice. It made his hours ridiculous and left little time for socializing. He packed up his things, resolved for the walk back to his grandfather’s apartment. **  
**

 

Heading towards the locker room, he had been surprised to hear quiet conversation and laughing from one of the unused rooms off the side of the rink. Heading over, he pushed the door open gently and his mouth fell open at the sight of his friends, clearly in various states of intoxication.

 

“Yurio!” Victor slurred cheerfully, an arm slung around Yuuri’s shoulders, “Yurio, come play with us!”

 

Mila and Georgi were there as well, the four of them looking as if they were having the world’s best time. Yuri went from surprised, to amused, to furious in a matter of moments.

 

“Is this what you assholes do all day when I’m stuck doing homework?” Yuri grumbled, dropping his bag on the floor and heading over to sit by Mila.

 

“Only sometimes,” Yuuri chimed in, sounding unsteady himself, “Just when Victor gives me a break.”

 

“I bet that’s not all he gives you!” Georgi called, laughing as he swayed.

 

 _Oh my god, they’re fucking wasted. This is hilarious,_ Yuri thought as he took a seat next to Mila. They were obviously in the throes of some kind of drinking game and Yuri leaned back to watch.

 

“Don’t give Yurio alcohol!” Mila said, flinging an arm over his shoulder, “He’s too young, it won’t agree with him.”

 

Yuri tched and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of him. He had no desire to drink, but he hated when people pointed out that he was too young to do something.

 

_That’s why I snuck into a club to see Beka DJ and I did my exhibition skate. Were none of you watching?_

 

“Alright, here’s some water so he can at least pretend to play,” Georgi said, handing Yuri a glass. Yuri rolled his eyes again, but took the glass without speaking. After a few moments of casual talking and laughing, Victor stood up, swaying a little.

 

“Let’s continue!” he called out, like an overexcited cruise director, “Hmm, Mila I think it’s your turn!”

 

“Okay,” Mila said, “Hm, Yuuri, truth or dare?”

 

_Truth or dare? Are they fucking serious?_

 

“Truth,” Yuuri said, a kind of unsteady smile on his face.

 

“Hmmm….okay, who was your first crush?” she asked, “BEFORE Victor, I mean.”

 

Yuuri got a kind of thoughtful look on his face before he shrugged. “No one, really. It’s always been him.”

 

_Fucking gross._

 

Victor cooed, sitting back down and kissing Yuuri sweetly, which made Yuri’s stomach roll. He hated watching them be so affectionate, it was infuriating.

 

“Boring!” Mila called, “Victor, it’s your turn.”

 

Victor looked around the room, before landing on Yuri with a weird smile.

 

_Stop looking at me that way, asshole._

 

“Yurio! Your turn. Truth or dare?” Victor asked, beaming.

 

“Truth,” Yuri said absentmindedly. He had no desire to take a sober dare from a bunch of drunk Russians.

 

Victor looked surprised, as if he wasn’t expecting that. “Ah, alright then. Who was your first crush?”

 

_Fucking hell._

 

“Hey, you can’t take my question!” Mila pouted, leaning against Yuri, before a strange look crossed her face. “But…yeah, come to think of it, I remember that, actually. You were mopey for weeks after the Junior championships. Little Yurachka’s first heartbreak?”

 

_Shit, shit, shit! Okay, just lie. Lie Yuri!_

 

“That’s none of your business,” Yuri scowled, heat flushing his cheeks.

 

“I remember, too!” Victor called out, “You said your crush let you down at the Grand Prix and you pouted for weeks, I thought Yakov was going to lose his mind waiting for you to focus on skating again.”

 

_Stop talking, please for the love of god stop talking._

 

Georgi was looking at him thoughtfully now. “Heartbreak? Oh, Yuri, I wish I had known. I would have talked you through it. Although, I can’t really see any of the other junior competitors as having let you down…”

 

Yuri was tomato red now, wanting desperately to escape, to be literally anywhere else as he tried desperately not to look over at Yuuri and Victor. It had taken him the past year to get over his crush on Yuuri, and he definitely didn’t want it out in the open now that it was behind him.

 

“Yurio, are you alright?” Yuuri asked softly, and that was enough to break Yuri’s last piece of resolve.

 

“Leave me alone,” he snarled, “Just stop pushing, would you? It’s none of your business, it’s not any of your business. It happened, it’s done.”

 

_It’s over. I got over it ages ago._

 

He noticed their cheerful smiles had diminished and were all look at him in poorly veiled concern. Yuuri was hanging off Victor’s shoulder, looking upset, while Victor, Mila, and Georgi were all giving him those sincere worried expressions that Yuri hated so much.

 

“It doesn’t sound like you’re over it,” Mila said softly, “Come on, little bro, spill.”

 

_I don’t want to talk about it! I’m already so embarrassed. And I can’t keep it in much longer. Ugh, Katsudon, stop looking at me like that!_

 

“It was more than a crush?” Victor teased softly, “A lover, perhaps?”

 

Yuri’s face burned and he was sure he was bright red by now. Ignoring the question, he stood and went to grab his bag, pointedly not looking at them and praying they would forget all of this in the morning. He didn’t have feelings for Yuuri anymore, but having it dredged up was very uncomfortable.

 

“Yurio, wait,” Yuuri’s soft voice came from behind him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Are you alright?”

 

Yuri wanted to shove Yuuri’s hand off, but he couldn’t make himself move. He was beyond humiliated and wanted nothing more to do with any of them.

 

_Fuck, Katsudon, stop! This is so embarrassing and Mila’s going to figure this out in about five seconds if she catches me looking at you…_

 

“Oh my god,” Mila whispered as if on cue, “Oh, Yuri…”

 

“What?” Victor asked, “What is it?”

 

Yuri brushed off Yuuri’s hand and turned towards them, a fierce kind of of anger pulsing through him.

 

“Leave me _alone_ ,” he snarled, “Go back to your lame ass game.”

 

He was about to cross the threshold of the room when Victor had to open his big mouth.

 

“Yurio, just because you had a crush on Yuuri doesn’t mean you can’t play with us!”

 

_What…oh my god, Victor. You set me up. You set me up you fucking, drunken, asshole!_

 

To his horror and complete embarrassment, Yuri felt tears stinging in his eyes. He said nothing, ignoring the calls for him to come back as he broke into a run, barging through the now-empty rink and out into the night. The tears came fast, sobs choking him as he ran home.

 

When he reached his grandfather’s apartment, Yuri raced up the stairs, opening the door, barely hearing his grandfather’s confused greeting before he threw himself into his arms, crying on his shoulder.

 

“Dedushka,” he sobbed, “I’m such an idiot.”

 

God, having feelings _sucked_.

 

After a few minutes of sobbing, his grandfather began to get the whole story out of him, leading him over to the couch. Yuri explained through choked sobs the whole embarrassing ordeal.

 

“Grandpa, what do you do if someone you love lets you down, really fucks you over?” Yuri sobbed miserably.

 

“Yurachka, it can’t be that bad,” his grandfather soothed, sitting down next to him, “Didn’t you say it was just a silly game?”

 

Yuri hastily rubbed at his eyes again, ashamed at crying in front of his grandfather, ashamed at the whole situation.

 

“Yeah,” he said softly, “But dedushka, they…they _know_. I’ve never been so humiliated in my entire life.”

 

His grandfather hummed quietly, dropping an arm around Yuri’s shoulders. In front of them on the table, his phone was buzzing almost consistently, texts and calls coming in every few seconds.

 

“Your friends are worried about you,” his grandfather murmured.

 

Yuri’s eyes narrowed as he huffed. “They’re all assholes.”

 

“Yurachka, don’t be unkind.”

“Sorry, dedushka.”

 

His grandfather continued to hold him as Yuri ignored the calls on his cell. It was hard to feel as embarrassed when he was leaning on his grandfather. Eventually, he decided he wanted to talk a little more.

 

“Grandpa…they all know. They know I used to…have a crush on him. It’s _humiliating_ ,” Yuri moaned, “And what if Beka finds out? He’s so much cooler than me and I already don’t feel like I’m cool enough to be his friend, and…”

 

“Hush,” his grandfather said, kissing the top of Yuri’s head, “Yurachka, it is alright to feel this way. Love is normal, childhood crushes happen. I’m sure your friends will understand. And this Otabek…he helped you choreograph that exhibition routine, yes? I’m sure he likes you the way you are.”

 

_You meant the routine you wanted to ground me for?_

 

Yuri nodded, dropping his head on his grandfather’s shoulder. “Yeah. I just…Grandpa, I’m tired of feeling like a kid around them. I…I don’t want to have to prove myself all the time.”

 

“Yura, you don’t have to prove anything. Your friends will love you for exactly who you are, just like I do,” he soothed, holding Yuri close, “And I think it would be good for you to talk to your friend Yuuri. Getting it off your chest might make you feel better. You can start by answering all of those texts.”

 

Yuri blushed, but he nodded, knowing his grandfather was right. But before he reached for his phone, he leaned back on his shoulder.

 

_I will. But first…I just want to stay like this a little longer._


	18. The Silent Treatment: Yuri wears hearing aids, and is harassed by his fans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one had mentioned his hearing aids; they were hidden behind his hair and he didn’t feel the need to share that information with the world. The small group of people that he cared about knew about his hearing loss, and that was enough for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! This was not a writing prompt, but rather a one-shot based loosely on A Silent Voice (Koe No Katachi) and a dream I had.
> 
> tw: This fic does include ableism as well as the forced removal of someone's hearing aids.

“Beka, seriously, stop fussing,” Yuri groaned, swatting his friend’s hand away, “I’m fine.”

 

Otabek looked at him in concern, but moved his hand down away from his face. “I just don’t want the tape getting caught in your hair.”

 

Yuri sighed, reaching up and feeling at his hearing aids, which he and Otabek had just decorated with leopard-print tape. Sensing that there was no loose tape that would pull at his hair, he waved Otabek’s concerns away with a hand.

 

“It’s fine,” he said, “Let’s go find something to eat, I’m starving.”

 

They had just finished with a press conference for Olympic skaters that had taken place in Moscow. Otabek had been over from Kazakhstan for a visit, so he was included along with Yuuri and the rest of the Russian team. Yuri had been a little nervous, as it was his first Olympic press conference, but he felt he had done well.

 

No one had mentioned his hearing aids; they were hidden behind his hair and he didn’t feel the need to share that information with the world. The small group of people that he cared about knew about his hearing loss, and that was enough for him.

 

Now, he and Otabek walked happily around the streets of Moscow, stalls and stores bustling with excitement and energy. The hearing aids helped Yuri pick up some of the sounds, but occasionally he found himself lost when Otabek would try to speak to him. Feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder, Yuri turned towards his friend.

 

“What?” he asked. Otabek pointed over at a piroshki stall and Yuri’s mouth watered.

 

“Fuck _yes,_ ” he moaned, the two heading over to stand in line. The steam from the varying stalls and the crowd made it a little warm, so Yuri casually pulled his shoulder-length hair up into a ponytail, careful to avoid jostling his hearing aids as much as he could. He and Otabek talked casually as they waited, both excited for a calm night out on the streets of the city.

 

However, they were both unaware that a gaggle of his fangirls had been following them for the past hour, since they had been let out of their interviews.

 

“It’s _Yurachka!”_ an excited voice squealed, but they were both so caught up in the conversation after a while that neither noticed when the girls got right behind them in line. After a few moments, Otabek let Yuri know he was going to quickly use the restroom in the nearby store.

 

“Okay, I’ll save our place in line,” Yuri smiled as Otabek walked off.

 

Yuri was still oblivious to anything apart from Otabek, so he didn’t expect it when he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. Jumping a little in surprise, he turned around to see three Yuri’s Angels, all practically vibrating with excitement. They began to talk so quickly that the sound blurred and Yuri couldn’t make heads or tails of what they were saying.

 

“Uh, sorry, I’m having a hard time hearing you…” Yuri interrupted the girls after a few awkward moments. One of the girls crossed her arms, looking like she was admonishing him about something. Yuri didn’t know how to react as she kept talking, raising her hands up quickly towards him.

 

“Um, what are you-”

 

He couldn’t make out what she was saying, but he definitely noticed as her hands grabbed onto his hearing aids, ripping them out of his ears. A sharp spike of pain took root in his right ear as the shock of the difference in sound washed over him. He felt something trickling down the side of his face, and he realized with utter horror that it was blood.

 

Humiliation and shock pouring through him, Yuri swallowed hard as he recognized he was about to cry. Unable to look at the girls’ faces, Yuri turned and ran, heading for a quiet place where he could break down in peace. In his panic and pain, he was unaware that Otabek had witnessed the whole scene from afar and had angrily gotten Yuri’s hearing aids back from the girls, now chasing after Yuri down the street.

 

Yuri turned into the first alley he saw, leaning up against the wall of a brick building and placing his face in his hands. Sobs wracked his body, still feeling the blood trickle down his face. It hurt, he was scared, and he couldn’t hear. Feeling completely ashamed and humiliated, the crying got worse and he sat down on the ground, pulling his face into his knees.

 

A few minutes passed while he tried to get a hold of himself, pressing against his injured ear with his shirt sleeve. He heard a muffled kind of yelling and he rose his teary eyes, shocked to see both Victor and Yuuri kneeling down in front of him. They were asking him questions, but Yuri just kept shaking his head, unable to choke out what had happened. He wordlessly pointed to his ears and he saw Victor gasp and Yuuri cover his mouth when they noticed his injury.

 

Yuuri quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out some tissue, pressing them gently against Yuri’s wound. Yuri sniffed a little, watching as Victor pulled out his phone, typing something quickly and holding it out to show him.

 

 **Yuri, where are your hearing aids?** The text read. Yuri opened his mouth, unsure of how to begin, when a disheveled, panting Otabek suddenly appeared in the alley.

 

Yuri could vaguely hear that Otabek was talking quickly to Yuuri and Victor both, although unable to make out the words. He watched as their faces grew angry as he assumed Otabek was telling them the story, although he wasn’t quite sure how his friend knew what had happened.

 

After a moment, Otabek turned and knelt down in front of Yuri, wordlessly holding out his hearing aids. At first, Yuri felt a wave of relief wash over him, but he realized after a moment that both of them had been broken, looking as if they had been damaged when they had pulled them out of his ears.

 

Another wave of tears threatened to overwhelm him as he choked up. The other three were looking at him in concern while he bit his lip, taking his damaged property from Otabek’s hands. Sudden thoughts of his grandfather, cheerfully selling their possessions in order to buy these for Yuri, to _help_ him, suddenly overwhelmed him.

 

“That was _months_ of our savings!” Yuri suddenly cried. He couldn’t hear his own voice hardly at all, but judging by the expressions on his friends’ faces, he knew he was speaking clearly, “My grandpa had to sell his car…I…I… _fuck.”_

 

Otabek had his phone out, quickly typing something and holding it out so Yuri could read it.

 

**I got the contact information of those girls. They said they’ll pay to replace them. They feel horrible, they thought they were headphones and that you were ignoring them. I definitely gave them a piece of my mind for that.**

 

Yuri sniffed, nodding as he read the text. He felt a little better knowing that his grandfather wouldn’t have to bend over backwards to replace his hearing aids and that he wasn’t alone.

 

Otabek had a hand on his shoulder while Yuuri was still pressing the tissue to Yuri’s ear. Victor was typing now, looking as if he sent a text before typing something else and showing Yuri his phone.

 

**Yurio I texted Yakov and told him what happened. He’s going to call your grandfather. I think we should take you to the hospital and see if your ear needs stitches.**

 

Yuri nodded wordlessly, while Yuuri finally pulled back, saying something unintelligible to Victor. Yuri raised a curious hand to his ear, happy to find that the bleeding had stopped. Otabek held out a hand, waiting patiently for Yuri to grip it. Feeling a little dizzy from the crying and somewhat from the bleeding, Yuri allowed himself to be guided up, Otabek supporting him with an arm around his back. Trying to ignore the blush in his face from the feeling of Otabek’s arm on his back, Yuri turned his head over to Yuuri and Victor, both of whom were still looking very concerned.

 

“I’ll be okay,” Yuri said in a strong voice, “Thanks for helping me.”

 

Yuuri and Victor both smiled, Yuuri taking Yuri’s free hand in his own as they walked to Victor’s car. Yuri’s ear stung, his pride was wounded, and he felt sick about being so violated by his fans. However, in the city lights, surrounded by the warmth of his friends, he began to feel closer to being alright again. 

 


	19. Living Room Routine: A JJBek One-Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time since he trained in the U.S. with Leo and JJ, but Otabek hasn't forgotten what it feels like to let loose and dance with his best friends. He hasn't forgotten how JJ's eyes sparkle when he laughs, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time since I uploaded anything, but with the announcement of the YOI movie, I've been inspired to write more! This is a JJBek one-shot! I just love the headcanons of JJ, Otabek, and Leo as friends in the U.S. together before they all headed to their home rinks. 
> 
> This is a very fluffy, fun one-shot!

Otabek doesn’t hate parties, exactly, he just prefers being in the security of his DJ booth and observing instead of being on the dancefloor. A way to be a part of the party without all of the forced socializing and sweaty bodies pressed against his. 

 

The end of the year banquet is one of the times when he’s forced to mingle with everyone, putting on a polite face and speaking with potential sponsors. He knows it’s important to keep on a good face for the press and his fans, but it’s exhausting, and Otabek hates it.

 

Checking his phone to see how much longer he’d have to endure the awkward small talk, he’s distracted by a loud, booming laugh. Looking up, he sees JJ from across the room, cracking up with his hand on Leo’s shoulder, who’s laughing just as hard as JJ is. Otabek feels fond as he looks at the pair of them, remembering his time together with them in the U.S., the sleepovers at JJ’s and the awkward middle school years they all went through together. Otabek wishes he could break through his mental wall and go join them, like old times, but he feels a bit suffocated in the stiff environment. 

 

Sighing, he spots his new friend Yuri across the room, being hounded by sponsors, skaters, and press alike. Being the youngest gold medalist in Grand Prix men’s singles history led to a lot of attention, and while Otabek was proud of Yuri, he didn’t envy him for it now. It’s a strange night for Otabek, being in fourth was disappointment for him, sure, but he feels a kind of longning that he hasn’t felt in while as he looks back at his old best friends. 

 

The night goes on, Otabek speaking to a few people, but mostly keeping to himself. To avoid the disastrous events of last year’s banquet, they’ve apparently hired a DJ and a dancefloor to keep everyone happy, no potential stripping poles in sight. 

 

_ Not that they’d need it this year, _ Otabek thinks to himself as he watches Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov laugh and chat excitedly with a large group,  _ Yuuri manned up and got what he wanted, and Victor did, too. _

 

Otabek tries not to feel bitter, wishing he could push through and just socialize easily with his fellow skaters. He wants to congratulate Yuri, but he knows there’s no way he can break through the crowd around his friend without getting swept up into an interview himself. 

 

He’s broken out of his thoughts by the DJ announcing that the dancefloor is open, beginning with a newer, energetic dance tune. The younger skaters rush the floor immediately, and Otabek thinks wryly that he should have been hired to DJ this-he’d have picked something a bit more inclusive to start. 

 

Heading over to the food, Otabek grabs a small drink and a nosh, hoping the night will end soon so he can go up to his hotel room and sleep. He manages to keep to himself for a few songs, until an older, familiar song comes on.

 

_ No, way. This is the song… _

 

Otabek scans the room for his friends, eyes widening when he sees JJ already rushing over to him.

 

“Beka! They’re playing it!” JJ shouts excitedly over the music with a huge smile, “I requested it. Come on, living room routine!”

 

Otabek blushes, hard, rubbing the back of his hair self-consciously.

 

“No, Jay, I can’t,” he says with embarrassment, “We never did that outside Leo’s house.”

 

JJ looks at him with the large, puppy-dog eyes that always seem to make Otabek’s insides melt, even years later. “Bek,” JJ whines, pleadingly as he tugs Otabek’s arm, “Come on, it’s almost to the chorus! I’ve been dying to do this with you, come on, please?”

 

Otabek is still blushing, but he feels a kind of reckless energy come over him as the upbeat song pumps through the room. It’s the kind of nostalgic song that everyone seems to know, everyone shouting the lyrics and moving to the beat wherever they are in the room. 

 

Before Otabek can say anything, JJ tugs him into the center of the crowd, and begins the ridiculous dance. Otabek can’t help it.

 

He smiles.

 

It shouldn’t be a big deal, not really, but he hasn’t smiled much this week, with his loss in the Grand Prix. On top of that, Otabek rarely smiles as it is, being in his own head most of the time. But JJ always seems to be able to pull this kind of happiness out of him, and before he realizes it, he’s dancing with his old best friend. If he’d been paying attention, he would have noticed people staring at them as they dance together, all in shock at this side of Otabek most people have never seen. But he’s too caught up in being spun around by JJ, breaking into all sorts of awkward dance moves they’d come up with as kids.

 

JJ laughs, throwing his head back as he tugs Otabek’s hand, and Otabek finds himself losing a bit of his breath. JJ’s as beautiful as always, and he wants to ride this high forever, on the dancefloor with him for as long as he can. 

 

The song reaches the final chorus, and Otabek forgos all sort of worry about his image, or people watching him, and gives in completely to the fun abandon of the dance. Leo’s joined them now too, and Otabek feels like he’s a preteen again, dancing around the living room, completely carefree. Back when they’d push the couches out of the way and turn on MTV, choreographing movements to the songs while they’d critique the music. The infamous “living room routine” was one they’d do when they ran out of ideas, a well-choreographed dance for a couple of eleven-year-old boys. It seems strange to do it now, but Otabek’s having too much fun to care.

 

“Beks, you’ve still got it!” JJ calls out to him in French, and Otabek feels his heart stop as his handsome friend pulls him into a hug as the song ends, kissing his cheeks.

 

“You never stop surprising me,” JJ grins, pulling back slightly as his eyes sparkle, “Come on, would you do me the honor of being my dance partner for the rest of the night? Leo’s already off to find Guang Hong, and I want some time with you.”

 

Otabek can’t find a single reason to say no, looking up at JJ with a smile of his own.

 

“Yes, Jean, I’m yours,” Otabek says softly, tugging on his sleeve, “Now come on, I want to see the rest of your moves.”

 

The way JJ smiles at him lights up Otabek’s heart, and he finds that nothing else really seems to matter.


End file.
